Grace After Midnight_ A Memoir - Felicia Pearson [27]
“Problem was, Valentino had him some expensive taste. Loved the big cars and the big cribs and even got him a big boat somewhere out there on the bay. The boat had a captain and a cook. I know ’cause I was about the only working bitch who done seen that boat. Boat was seriously tricked out. Looked like a church with all the marble and gold on the walls. But paying for that marble and gold became a problem for Valentino. He got himself squeezed between two hard-nosed money men. He needed serious cash.
“That’s when Valentino changed up his game. Game used to be, ‘Some guy fucks you and you get paid.’ Now the game was, ‘Some guy fucks you, and while he’s fucking you, Valentino has a dude sneak in the room to take his money.’ So my job is to scream so loud during the fucking until the john can hear nothing but my fuckin’ screaming. That’s kinda fun. But when the john sees what’s happening in the middle of the fuck and jumps off me, I’m supposed to knock him over the head with a chair. I’m no good at that. I don’t like it. ‘Tough shit,’ Valentino says, ‘You’ll do it.’ Did it for a while. More I did it, though, more I hated it. Some guy wanna fuck me, cool. But I don’t wanna fuck him up. See, I’m one of those nonviolent people like Dr. King was talking about. I’m tired of smacking motherfuckers upside the head. I refuse. ‘Fine, bitch, then I’ll smack you upside your head. How you like that?’ I don’t like it. Don’t like it one bit, but Valentino’s getting rougher and I’m getting sorer and the shit’s getting crazier until one night I got a rich john up in there and I ain’t screaming loud enough to drown out the noise of the man robbing the john. The john sees what’s happening and jumps off me right quick. That’s when I’m supposed to crack him over the head, but I ain’t playing. He and Valentino’s man get into it. Valentino’s man ain’t fucking around. He up and shoots the john through the heart. Just like that, we got us a dead body on our hands.
“Valentino’s all pissed. Makes me help bury the john out in the country somewhere. That gets me pissed. Cops come round looking for the dead guy. They start pointing at me. But I ain’t pointing at no one. I ain’t saying nothing. But then they start getting serious with first-degree murder charges and I start pointing to the place where we buried the man. I get accessory to murder. That’s a helluva lot better than first degree. I get to come to Grandma’s House and chill for a minute.”
“How ’bout Valentino?” I want to know.
“Money men who was squeezing him dealt with him.”
“And did what?”
“What do you think? Squeezed the fuckin’ life out of him.”
DILDOS FOR SALE
Doing business at Grandma’s House is a different deal. It ain’t like setting up a Starbucks in the mall.
The girls have different needs and, if you’re interested in making cash, you will find a way to supply those needs.
What does everybody need at Grandma’s House? What does everyone want?
Sex.
So I started thinking about sex—not for myself, but for my business. I was still too cautious to get crazy with sex in the Cut. But sex was happening all around me and, as someone used to hustling one kind of merchandise or another, I was trying to figure out how to combine commerce and sex.
What kind of merchandise did the girls need most?
Dildos.
Whether bi, straight, or straight-up gay, women want it; or they want to give it. Anyway you look at it, they need it.
And since the Cut didn’t exactly have a gift shop that sold sex toys, I figured I’d set up my own. I also figured that I’d keep it simple. One product and one product only. The essential product. The ever-popular dildo, the product that never goes out of style and is always in demand.
Problem is, where do you get them? Who do you order them from? Who’s your supplier?
I saw that I had to be